The familiarity was gone. We were living in a new place. We had new responsibilities. A new church. Reaching for new relationships. The familiar was behind us, and Christmas was here. If any time of the year stirs the emotions, Christmas does. We had already done a lot of new things, and those things were good. But the familiar was gone. We even had some new blessings, big blessings, because they had brought us closer to some, although we had said good-bye to others. The reminder though came, boldly outlined, and all lit up, cause that’s the way God sometimes does things. Jesus left the familiar at Christmas. All the perfections and intimacies of Heaven – He left the familiar behind. Why? His Father had promises to fulfill, a plan for His Son to accomplish, a people, loved by the Father, but estranged to Him, a people the Father chose to sacrificially give to so estrangement could become intimacy. The plan was shaped by His heart millenniums before, and now it was time. Jesus left the familiar, and at Christmas, in tiny human form, He was placed in a manger in Bethlehem. He would journey from the manger to a tortuous cross where God’s love would meet His holiness so He could fully embrace the very people He had always loved.
Sometimes we lose familiarity because we lose the one we love – a spouse, a parent, a child, a close friend. That one is no longer here, and all the warm and familiar has changed. And Christmas comes in the midst of harshness and pain, brokenness and confusion. The thousand questions silence the Christmas music. Why? When will the pain stop? Can I really, really know His embrace? Can He still give tomorrows that will be good – tomorrows that can still allow me to find a place in His plan?
Jesus left the familiar at Christmas. Mine was gone too – and maybe, yours. I faced the unfamiliar when life demanded change and being a newbie. And I have faced the unfamiliar too with loss – deep, searing loss that darkens the Christmas lights, silences the music, brings the heaviness of winter clouds my arms literally ache to push away – and I know others have as well.
O Jesus. Precious Jesus.
Born a baby.
Smelly manger hay, scratchy animals.
And all of Heaven gazing.
You wake the world to the love of Your Father.
O Jesus ........
Thank You for leaving the familiar.
Thank You for giving me a love so big, so unchangeable.
When my own familiar lies torn and shredded,
A distant memory.
Remind me of Your love, and help Your love
To be enough.
– Bev
(Related Bible reading: Galatians 4:4-7; 1 John 4:9,10)
